


Street Sweeper

by Space_Dementia



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Character of Color, Gen, Gift Fic, Training, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Dementia/pseuds/Space_Dementia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monica is flexing her hero muscles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Street Sweeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tokenblkgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokenblkgirl/gifts).



Monica sat perched on the lamp post watching the street below. All was mostly quiet in the early morning hours and Monica was getting bored. She pointed her toe, shifting her weight easily taking the opportunity to practice her handstand splits.

"Oh that's quiet the talent you've got there, little miss."

"Will you shut up and try to act more like a victim. I mean if you're going to follow me around ..."

"I do not _follow you around._ And I am trying but you keep talking to me and I think it's giving off the wrong impression."

"I didn't ask you to come along. I can do this on my own and I don't need bait to help me fight crime."

"Bait. Look who's talking ..." Adam whispered under his breath.

Monica angled her body and let it swing once around the post before dismounting and landing with a flawless stick in front of him. Adam clapped at the show.

"I don't think anything's gonna happen tonight so wanna clock out?" She offered

"I think you're trying to get rid of me."

"Well, the sun is coming up. Don't you immortals have to get inside before you burn up in the sunlight?"

"I'm not a vampire, Monica." She frowned at him and he put his hands up in a show of submission. "Shall I walk you home?"

"Nope, I can handle it. It's pretty quiet out, I shouldn't have any problems."

She knew she was pushing her luck with that last statement.

*

The scream rang out just 4 blocks away from her neighborhood. Three guys were trying to mug what appears to be a nurse coming off a late shift.

Monica ran full force, flipping in mid-air to aim her foot straight down into the assailants chest. He fell back, hard as the air was knocked out of him. The nurse sing her chance took off for safety, but not before kicking the prone man in the ribs.

"You want some of this, lil'ma?" said another man, who flipped out a butterfly knife and began cutting at the air near her. She avoided his attempts easily before grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. He cried out dropping the knife.

"The name is St. Joan." She said kicking out behind her to catch the third attacker in the jaw putting him down for at  least a week. "Now if you don't want me to break your arm into itty-bitty pieces, you'll sit here quietly and wait for the cops to come."

He made a threatening move, tying to slip out of her grasp, when she wrenched his arm up then lifted her foot to bring it down on his calve. He screamed and screamed until she directed his face into the concrete, knocking him out cold.

The sirens wailed and flashed, signaling the arrival of the ever chronically late police. She vaulted over a low fence and cut though a graveyard. Pulling back her hood she let the air whoosh past, cooling her sweaty skin. A bright smile appeared on her face.

"Buffy Summers, eat your heart out."


End file.
